


I Can't Do This All On My Own

by Hinn_Raven



Series: Scrubs AU [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: 5+1 Things, Closet Sex, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Hand Jobs, Holding Hands, M/M, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Riding, Smut, Unprofessional Office Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: Five times one of Blood Gulch General Hospital's couples had sex in the hospital, and one time they held hands.Smutty missing moments and side-stories fromThe Hand That Breaks the Fall.





	1. steppin' out of line (SargeGrey)

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME TO THE SMUTTY SIDESTORY COLLECTION I PROMISED. SORRY THERE'S NO UNPROFESSIONAL OFFICE SEX. YET. I'M WORKING ON IT. 
> 
> And by that I mean it's going to be the last one since those two are the last couple to get their act together, and this shit's gonna be in chronological order!
> 
> FOR UPCOMING SMUT WE WILL HAVE. 
> 
> 1\. SargeGrey, as discovered by Wash in chapter 6 of THTBTF  
> 2\. Sherry/Ohio  
> 3\. Grimmons  
> 4\. Yorkalina  
> 5\. The apparently anticipated Tuckington unprofessional desk sex.   
> +1 instance of Chex hand holding.

First days were always stressful, no matter how often Emily had them.

Blood Gulch in particular was charming in its chaotic nature; there was simply so many things to _do_! Doctor Washington seemed a bit frenzied about the whole thing, but Emily had long since found that there were easier ways to handle the stress.

Such as how she was currently occupying herself.

The thin fabric of the Sergeant’s scrubs bunched in her hands as she pressed him against the wall. He was taller than her, but not by much, and Emily laughed as his scruff brushed against her chin.

“Aren’t you worried about missing a page?” He asked her gruffly, and she beamed, approving of his priorities. What a sensible fellow!

“Not to worry sweetie! With the correct positioning, it shouldn’t be a problem!”

“Well then!” He kissed her again, and Emily sighed into his mouth. This was indeed the best way to spend a break in the ER. “I believe it’s time that we be creating the beast with two backs! And four legs! And four arms! And possibly some other beasts, because you know, I’m always up for further exploration of positioning! Lead the way, missy!”

“Hmm,” Grey said. “We’ll work on that.”

“You prefer I call you doctor?”

“Emily’s just fine for the bedroom, I think.” She smirked at him, angling her eyebrows in a way that made her intent impossible to mistake. “For now.”

Sarge chuckled, and then pushed open the door to the doctor’s overnight room.

Emily quickly set about divesting herself of her scrubs, while the Sergeant did the same. After a moment of consideration, she left her stethoscope around her neck, because that thing always did manage to get lost when she took it off. Once they were down to their underwear, Emily decided that it was time she furthered her exploration of the Sergeant’s physique. Clipping her pager to her bra, she shamelessly began to explore his chest with her hands.

Taking it as a sign, he placed his hands on her hips and enthusiastically began to kiss her again. The bristle of his beard and mustache was pleasant, and Grey deepened the kiss for a moment, before glancing at her watch, which she’d determined was probably a good thing to keep on.

“Hmmm. I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” she mused. “Statistically…”

“Very well then!” he said, pulling back just enough for Emily to appreciate the way her purple lipstick had smeared across his face. “Then why don’t you sit down on the bed and let’s get started!”

“Something you have in mind?” The bed was a simple enough affair, with a red duvet cover and white sheets, and Grey did feel bad about potentially getting it dirty. But it was hers for the weekend, and she’d make it up to the laundry staff. Potential guilt over a dirty quilt was really just a small thing, compared to spending her entire break alone and bored.

“Emily,” he said gruffly, placing his hands on her bare thighs and getting onto his knees. “When a man gets to be my age, he tends to learn one very important thing! There’s always time for foreplay! And lubricant! And condoms, unless you’re in the mood to be popping out a couple of cabbage patch kids! Why, some might say it’s the most important part of intercourse!”

“Well!” Grey laughed. “I’m _certainly_ not going to disagree!” She pulled off her panties and the Sergeant set to work. His hands were warm on her thighs and she gasped as he began to flick his tongue back and forth over her clitoris.

And if this wasn’t an argument for older lovers, Emily didn’t know what was. When she’d been younger, it had been all fumbling and explanations and firm but gentle reminders that yes, the clitoris was a very important part of cunnilingus. He required no such direction. In fact he was _very_ attentive towards it, which Grey greatly appreciated. She tilted her head back towards the ceiling and moaned, tangling her fingers into his hair. He grunted in appreciation, clearly liking it, pressing a firm kiss against the inside of her thigh before dragging his tongue down towards her labia.

“Oh _my_!” Emily said, delighted. “You certainly weren’t exaggerating when you said you could make time!” She gently pushed him back, smiling at the shine to his mouth. “But I believe,” she said, “We do have other things we need to do.”

“Of course!” Sarge said gallantly. “What are you thinking, little lady?”

Grey unclipped her bra, and held up her pager in her hand. “I’m afraid I do need to be keeping an eye on this… so if you would be so kind as to get on your back?”

“Why of course! Although I think you will find that such a position does conceal one of my best features!”

He pushed down his boxers, giving Emily the briefest glimpse of his erection before he spun around and presented his well-formed posterior to her.

“Oh my! Well that will be a shame to miss that,” Grey said, giving in to temptation and smacking it lightly with the palm of her hand, causing the Sergeant to roar with laughter. She laughed as well, feeling something soft and light in her chest as she did so. She hadn’t laughed this hard during sex in… a very long time, if ever. “But I’m sure we’ll figure it out at a later time.”

“Why of course!” He turned around so that he could kiss her, and Emily nearly purred at the taste of herself on his tongue, but she really did have to focus. Surely they could not go much longer without interruptions, and she had every intention of riding this silver fox like a horse until they both saw stars.

She let him climb onto the bed while she retrieved a condom from his wallet. After inspecting it, she reached down and took a hold of his penis with one hand, placing her pager on his chest with the other. He reached up and moved it until it rested perfectly between his nipples, an aesthetic choice which Grey couldn’t hep but appreciate greatly.

The Sergeant was already hard, much to her delight. He truly had enjoyed going down on her, an admirable quality in any long-term sexual partner. Clearly, accepting his proposition had been an excellent decision. She still took her time, stroking him slowly—it was only fair, after the treatment he had given her, after all—until he was fully erect before rolling the condom onto him with a practiced efficiency.

She moved to straddle him, leaning down to kiss him again. His hand came up to cradle her face, gently brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Well then,” she murmured. “Shall we?”

“Ladies first! I insist,” he said, smiling as widely as she was.

Laughing, she rolled back on her heels until she was hovering over his cock. Locking eyes with him, she sunk down all the way, gasping as she went.

“Emily,” Sarge gasped.

“Oh my!” She said, her fingers dragging down his abdomen, leaving red marks in her wake. “Oh _my_!”

“Everything fine?” He asked her, peering up at her with a heartwarming concern.

“Everything is _marvelous_ ,” she assured him, leveraging herself off him so she could move downwards again.

“I aim to please! And for the g-spot! And for the vein, when I’m drawing blood!”

Grey laughed again, gasping in delight as he began to thrust up to meet her. They found their rhythm easily; his hands moving to her breasts to explore, tweaking her nipples expertly between his highly skilled fingers.

“Emily—” He growled lowly, looking up at her with such adoration it took her breath away.

The door opened at that exact moment, revealing a very exhausted looking Doctor Washington, who was staring at them with shock, horror, and confusion. His face was the color of the ER floor, and his eyes locked with Emily’s in a moment of sheer embarrassment before he slammed his eyes shut and began to stumble backwards, the door closing behind him.

“Well then!” Emily said.

“Too bad he ran away with his tail between his legs,” the Sergeant said thoughtfully. “He’s got a mighty fine ass for a no-good Blue. If you were in the mood for a threesome…”

Emily burst out laughing, and he joined in, his hands moving to her hips this time as they resumed their previous activities.

“Oh!” She gasped as he reached down and dragged his knuckle up her clitoris. “Oh, _do_ do that again!”

“Anything the lady wants,” he said, but his face was brightly flushed and this was clearly affecting him as much as it was affecting her. She began to speed up, bracing her hands against his pectoral muscles, her eyes unable to even focus on her pager as she began to lose herself to it all—the pressure on her clitoris, the slide of his cock along the walls of her vagina, the almost hypnotizing movement of her own up and down pace.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Emily no longer particularly cared that it was possible other people could hear—after Wash had walked in, Emily felt that she could safely assume most of the hospital was now aware of their activities. Gossip in hospitals were the same everywhere. “I think—I do believe that I am about to—” a gasp cut her off, as she tossed her head back towards the ceiling, mouth falling open.

“You’re not the only one,” the Sergeant said. “Together?”

“Ooh _let’s_!”

Emily shuddered and moaned as she let herself go, clenching and unclenching around the cock still inside her as he came as well. Panting heavily as she came down from her orgasm, she leaned forward to press her forehead against his. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her hands. Smiling up at her, he gently nipped the tip of her nose with his mouth before kissing her properly, cupping her chin in his hands.

Sighing as she glanced at her watch, she pulled off of his cock, missing the feeling of him inside her as soon as the sensation was gone. “We really must do this again,” she said, beginning the hunt for her underwear. “It was simply _delightful_.”

“Well, once your shift is over, you should let me treat you to a meal!” He said. “We can discuss the scheduling of additional rendezvouses after that!”

“Why Sergeant!” She said, straightening up to smile at him. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“It is distinctly possible! A fine lady such as yourself deserves only the best, after all!”

“Well!” Grey said, delighted. “I believe I shall have to take you up on that.” Her pager began to buzz. “Once Call is over, of course!”

He looked positively offended. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, little lady!” What a _man_ , she thought. He understood the importance of her job, _and_ he made her laugh. She was not about to let a catch like that escape anytime soon.

She kissed him thoroughly, ensuring that she had no lipstick left on her own mouth before she put on her scrubs and ran off to see what near-fatal injuries had accumulated in her absence from the ER.


	2. She likes my company (OhSherry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohio and Sherry have a few moments after Sherry is in a car crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OhSherry smut time! 
> 
> ... yeah I don't know what this is. First time writing femslash smut, Ohio, or Sherry in any serious fashion. Hope you folks enjoy! 
> 
> The car crash was mentioned in an early chapter of THTBTF: it's why Wash has call so early! Thought it might be fun to explore the aftermath.

“You shouldn’t even be back at work,” Vera hissed at Sherry.

“It’s a few bruised ribs, I’m _fine_ ,” Sherry snapped, rolling her eyes.

“You were in a _car crash_ ,” Vera snapped. She had a locked grip around Sherry’s wrist, and yanked her into her office.

“What the fuck is this about?” Sherry demanded.

Vera smashed her lips against Sherry’s brutally, grinning as her girlfriend finally got the hint and pulled her closer.

“That,” Vera said with a smug smile.

Sherry raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That all you’ve got?”

“I’m just getting started,” Vera boasted. She sunk down to her knees, dragging down the fabric of Sherry’s scrubs as she went. She pressed kisses against Sherry’s thighs, her fingers tugging at the elastic of her panties.

Sherry leaned against the wall hard, panting slightly already, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Vera smirked, nudging Sherry’s legs further apart to get better access. She ran her fingers lightly over Sherry’s labia, savoring the hitch in her girlfriend’s breathing. She moved her mouth, and Sherry tensed in anticipation, only to groan in frustration as Vera began to kiss the inside of her thighs, staying just far enough away from where Sherry wanted her to tease, to taunt.

“You _fuck_ ,” Sherry groaned. Vera bit down on the soft skin of her leg in retaliation, and that was enough to push her over the edge. Hands reached down and tangled in her hair, pulling hard enough that Vera gasped, feeling the familiar warm feeling in her abdomen. “Fucking get to it already, stop _teasing_.”

Vera grinned up at her, shameless.

“What, you think I’ll push you around more if you misbehave?” Sherry challenged, seeing through her as always.

Vera laughed, and finally turned her attention to Sherry’s clit, running her tongue over the clit and laughing as her girlfriend’s head slammed back hard against the wall. She never got tired of this, no matter how many times they found themselves in this position, or any position really. The smell of Sherry’s arousal, the way Sherry’s fingers were tugging on her hair, the way the muscles of her thighs were tight beneath her fingers as she began to move her tongue to the labia, lapping at the dampness already present.

Sherry was coming undone above her, mouth hanging open slightly, eyes locked with Vera’s. “Ohio,” she muttered vaguely. “ _Vera_.”

Hearing her name like that sent shivers down Vera’s spine, and she dug her fingers harder into her thighs as she continued eating Sherry out like she was starving.

Finally, but all too soon, Sherry shuddered and came, and Vera stayed there for a moment, loving the taste of her girlfriend lingering on her tongue before Sherry hauled her to her feet by the lapels of her labcoat and kissed her thoroughly, biting down on her bottom lip as she swung them around so that Vera was the one pressed against the wall.

“If you were worried,” Sherry breathed against her neck, before biting down harshly and sucking a hickey onto her skin, “next time just _say_ it instead of being such a bitch.”

Her fingers pushed into Vera’s pants, tracing along the underside of her panties, which were already soaked through. “God,” Sherry whispered, before kissing Vera again. Vera moaned, fisting her hands in Sherry’s scrubs, keeping her pressed flush against her.

“What’s the point,” Vera gasped, “when you can ready my body language so well I don’t need to?”

“Because that’s a bullshit form of communication!” Sherry snapped, biting down on Vera’s earlobe lightly, while her fingers pushed aside her panties and began to work Vera’s clit.

“ _Fuck_!” Vera said, back arching as Vera smirked against her neck. A finger followed, pressing in and circling lightly, Sherry’s other hand gripping Vera’s hip almost hard enough to bruise.

Unlike Vera, Sherry didn’t tease, didn’t drag it out. She rolled Vera’s clit between her thumb and forefinger and pressed into her vagina, her teeth and tongue dragging up and down Vera’s neck, pushing her to the edge faster than Vera would have once thought possible.

But this was Sherry, and Sherry knew every inch of her, knew how to take her apart with ease, just like Vera knew to do the same to her, and Vera caught Sherry in a kiss, finally giving in and saying the words Sherry wanted to hear.

“I love you I love you I love you, fuck I was so worried, I can’t do this without you, I love you I love you—”

Sherry kissed her again, her tongue pressing into her mouth, all wet and hot enough to make Vera’s knees go weak even before the orgasm rocked through her.

She slumped against the wall, kept upright only by the way that Sherry was still pressed against her from waist up.

“You’re such an idiot,” Sherry muttered. “Always starting a war when we don’t need one.”

“Nah,” Vera said, dazed and floaty after her orgasm. “I think we needed that one.”


	3. good enough for me (grimmons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif and Simmons de-stress in the back of the ambulance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyo, who's up for some Grimmons smut? In an ambulance no less! This takes place after the end of THTBFT, so spoilers for that if you haven't read it and are just here for the smut! 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to a_taller_tale, who I have promised I would write Grimmons smut for for _ages_. Hope you like, Taller!  <3

The ambulance smelled like it always did; all of the cleaners that Simmons used, the of Cheeto dust from the front where Grif sat, and Simmons’ weird organic chamomile tea.

But right now Grif wasn’t particularly paying attention to any of those things, because he finally, _finally_ had Simmons pressed up against the gurney, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

It wasn’t like they’d never kissed before; sloppy, drunken things usually, rushed and hurried pecks, but usually while fooling around Simmons got too nervous, too freaked out, and so there wasn’t much kissing.

But even now, a day after everything had gone down; Tucker in the playground and guns and Locus and Felix and grand conspiracies that Grif still didn’t understand, except it involved assholes with too much money who for some reason needed _more_ , there was an adrenaline high, a realization at how fragile things were, how easy it was for one of them to have been hurt or worse.

And so Simmons was kissing him like he’d never kissed Grif before, long fingers tangled into Grif’s shaggy hair, his prosthetic leg tangled with Grif’s, his other hand resting on the sleeve of Grif’s uniform. Grif’s own hands were placed on Simmons’ hips, half-afraid that if he let go, Simmons would vanish on him, that this would all just be a dream. Or worse, that one of them would lose their nerve and run away.

Grif knew better than to discount the possibility that he would be the one to run.

“ _Grif_ ,” Simmons said, finally breaking the kiss, and Grif waited to be pushed away, or worse, for Simmons to get mushy or something. But all Simmons did was tentatively try to kiss Grif’s ear, awkwardly trying to be erotic or something.

Grif snorted and retaliated by nipping at Simmons’ neck, which had the satisfying result of Simmons squawking and flushing a bright shade of crimson that matched the interior of the ambulance. Grif kept going, doing his best to suck a hickey into Simmons’ pale neck, and Simmons started to go limp and boneless against him. His lips parted, jaw jumping up and down before a soft moan broke out.

Grif felt all the blood in his body immediately redirect at that sound, and judging from the flush on Simmons’ face, he wasn’t the only one getting hard.

Deciding that they were _probably not_ going to make a break for it at this point, Grif let go of Simmons’ hips and placed a hand on the bulge in front of Simmons’ pants. Simmons let out a yelp, hips jutting forward. “ _Grif_!”

“Keep it down, do you want everyone to hear?” Grif muttered, squeezing Simmons’ ass with his other hand. Simmons was squirming now, his breath coming in hard, short pants. Flustered, Simmons reached down between them too, trying to reach for Grif’s pants.

Grif squeezed Simmons’ ass one more time for good measure—it wasn’t much of an ass, it was about as flat as flat could get, but he made fun noises when Grif did it—before yanking down Simmons’ pants entirely.

“This isn’t hygenic!” Simmons yelped as his bare ass was pressed back up against the stretcher.

“We’ll clean it later,” Grif said, undoing his own belt and kicking off his pants and underwear. By which he meant, _Simmons_ would clean it later, of course. Simmons was really far gone, since he let the conversation drop with that, instead eagerly pulling Grif in for another kiss, pushing their bodies together so that their dicks were rubbing.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Grif muttered, stifling a moan of his own as Simmons jerked his hips again, making sure that their dicks ground together _just right_. Simmons groaned into his mouth, and Grif pulled away, spitting into his hand before he wrapped it around their dicks.

Simmons’ head fell back, eyelids fluttering in surprise as his hips bucked into Grif’s grip. “ _Grif_!”

This time, Grif didn’t bother to tell him to keep it down. Instead he just started to move his hand, while Simmons scrabbled at him with his hands, up and down Grif’s chest. Seeming to find inspiration, Simmons leaned forward, kissing Grif’s neck, and _fuck_ , that felt good.

“ _Simmons, fuck_ ,” Grif muttered in his ear, both of their breaths coming hot and fast, a moan building up in his chest as he kept moving his hand. Simmons was mouthing at his neck desperately, practically shaking apart as he moaned and whined as Grif jerked them both off, his hands still wandering freely over Grif’s chest—and now his arms.

“Grif, Grif, Grif, Grif, _please_ ,” Simmons was muttering in between kisses. The movement of his hips as he jerked into Grif’s movements were frantic, unfocused, his eyes practically rolling back into his head.

“Shut the fuck up,” Grif muttered, leaning forward to kiss Simmons hard. Simmons practically melted into him, hands going up to cradle Grif’s face. It was almost tender, and that was weird, because they didn’t _do_ tender, they never had. But maybe Simmons felt it too—the weirdly heavy knowledge that shit could have _really_ gone south yesterday, that they could have been hurt or killed or whatever, and maybe that was it, maybe that was why he wasn’t protesting the hickeys Grif had left on his neck or the fact that they were about to orgasm in the back of their ambulance, which he would have to clean up later, probably using a black light and all of the other kinds of fancy cleaners. “I’ve got you, okay?” Grif said, biting down on anything more affectionate that he might want to say.

Anything more affectionate would scare Simmons away, he knew that.

And he wasn’t about to give this up, not the way that Simmons was coming undone, trapped between him and the stretcher, not the feeling of their dicks grinding against each other, trapped in his hand, not the way that Simmons bit down on his bottom lip tentatively, as if still building up his nerve for anything more aggressive than that.

“ _Grif_ ,” Simmons said, and it was more of a moan, a prayer, than anything else, and _fuck_ , there went Grif’s self control. He buried his face in Simmons’ shoulder as he came, his cum splattering between the two of them. He didn’t look at his face, but when he removed his hand, Simmons whimpered so loudly they could probably hear him in the ER.

“You’re such a fucking drama queen,” Grif told him. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

He kissed Simmons again, before he sunk down to his knees, ignoring the pitchy, needy gasps that were coming from above him as he wrapped both of his hands around Simmons’ dick, slowly taking the head into his mouth.

“ _Fuck_!” Simmons yelped, clutching the stretcher with his hands, clearly trying not to grab onto Grif’s hair or to move his hips too much. Grif rolled his eyes—Simmons got fussy about the weirdest things—but ignored him, just working on moving his hands and mouth up and down Simmons’ shaft, while Simmons kept going, a regular litany of curse words, moans, and Grif’s own name falling from his lips helplessly.

Simmons didn’t last long like this—he never did. With a proper scream, his hips jolted forward as he came, his legs buckling as he went boneless against the stretcher, and Grif swallowed him down until he was spent before finally pulling away. Wiping at his mouth, Grif got to his feet, examining Simmons. His face was flushed, his eyelids were heavy, and his mouth was still hanging open slightly, as if not quite sure where he was.

Smirking to himself—it was always fun to get that look on Simmons’ face, Grif wandered to the front of the ambulance to grab one of his snacks.

“ _Grif_ ,” Simmons muttered. “Put on pants, people can see you.”

Grif shrugged, unashamed. “Fuck it.”

If Simmons stared after him when Grif went to get his Cheetos, well.

Grif knew better than to point it out.


	4. her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you (yorkalina)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina and York get reacquainted. In a supply closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Yorkalina time! Hopefully I managed to keep it different enough from the SargeGrey chapter to keep things interesting. ;) I'm hoping to have the Tuckington chapter up for smut week! This happens post-THTBTF, in case you didn't guess. <3

There was something giddy about pulling York through the hallways of Blood Gulch General with a singular destination in mind.

It reminded her of… not happier times, but simpler ones. It was hard to call those days at the MOI happier now that she can feel that weight off her chest, now that the last of those regrets is holding onto her hand, laughing as he struggles to keep up.

Carolina was always fast.

Doc kept the tile floors well-waxed, and they started to skid as they turned a corner, allowing Carolina to accidentally tug York up against the wall and kiss him soundly.

Every kiss since their reunion was hungry and eager, and this one more so. There wasn’t the reverence of earlier ones, where they both treated the other as fragile, likely to be gone if they pushed too hard.

Now there was a desperation in both of them, warmth pooling in Carolina’s stomach in the familiar way as she pressed herself against him, keeping him trapped against the wall. When she finally pulled away, his chest was heaving and he was staring at her in awe, smiling crookedly as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“We should get back,” he said, his voice ragged. “Your car—”

Carolina paused in consideration. It was stupid, but she didn’t _want_ to wait until they got into the car and drove the half hour through traffic to her place. His place was closer of course, but his place also had _Tex_ , and the risk of her brother. Neither of which Carolina thought was conducive to solving the problem. Her car was a tantalizing option, but her tiny Smart Car didn’t exactly have room for anything _really_ fun.

That was when she spotted the sign out of the corner of her eye.

A supply closet.

Carolina spun him around, grabbing the handle and wrenching the door open before propelling him in.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she said before biting down on his neck, hard. He let out a loud gasp that she savored; she’d missed this, missed _him_ , missed the thrill of his hands slipping up under her shirt in a dark corner, the way he whispered her name when she found his pulse point and began to suck, her own hands at the back of his neck to keep him close.

 _Weeks_ , weeks since York had stumbled back into her life, weeks since he’d told her he still loved her, still wanted her, wasn’t _mad_ at her, and they hadn’t done this yet. It only seemed logical, after all the time apart, to take things slow, to relearn their old ways, to see how they’d changed, how they still fit.

But right now Carolina didn’t care about that. Right now York fingers were circling her nipples through the fabric of her bra and the taste of his skin was in her mouth.

“York,” she breathed out, reaching down to tug off her shirt.

Laughing, he pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw, and then began to travel down her body. He ran kisses down her collarbones, mouth catching on the chain she still wore the engagement ring. Glancing up at her, he followed the chain until he reached the ring, catching it between his teeth and grinning up at her shamelessly.

Carolina laughed despite herself at the ridiculous sight he made, curling her fingers in his hair. “I can think of so many better uses for your mouth,” she said.

He let it drop, still grinning. He always was so smug when he made her laugh. “So can I,” he admitted.

“Then get to it,” she ordered, enjoying the way his eyes darkened.

“As you wish,” he said. His hands travelled down her waist, while his mouth moved in a line between her breasts, down to her navel. He tugged down her scrub bottoms, and grinned up at her when he spotted her underwear.

“The ones I got you,” he said, sounding ridiculously happy.

“You’re a sap,” she accused, pulling his hair as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. She shivered, mouth falling open slightly as he pulled them down in a swift motion, leaving them bunched around her ankles with her scrubs.

“You know,” York said, grinning at her. “This closet’s bigger than the one at MOI.”

“What are you thinking?” Carolina asked, raising an eyebrow.

She could see his grin even in the low light of the closet.

“Sit on my face?”

Carolina found herself grinning, and pushed him over, a little rougher than she should have maybe, but he never complained about that, just grinned up at her. Straddling him, she reached and cupped him through his jeans, unsurprised to find him hard. Moaning, he arched up off the floor.

“We’ll figure out how to take care of you later,” she said, although that was a lie, she knew exactly what she was going to do with him and he knew it, from the unrepentant smile on his face. It was stupid, but it reminded her of when they were young and stupid and doing all kinds of stunts like this—there was the slightest thrill of knowing that Doc or anyone could randomly open the door, looking for supplies, and discover them like this, Carolina’s clothes except her bra in a pile, York still fully dressed, her straddling his chest, inching forward towards his face.

His hands went to her thighs, and she let out a moan as he set to work. He remembered how she liked it, and she fisted her hands in his hair, tugging hard as she encouraged him. His tongue circled her clit and labia before diving in, and she gasped. His thumbs rubbed circles along the sensitive skin inside her thighs, his fingers occasionally wandering to stroke her clit or to tease her lips.

“ _York_ ,” she managed, pulling his hair harder. He let out a moan of his own, turning his head slightly to press another kiss against her thigh. His mouth was warm and wet with her arousal, and Carolina caught a glimpse of his eyes, dark with his own desire and adoring.

His fingers rolled her clit between them, and Carolina gasped loudly as she came. York’s face when she moved away was shiny but smug; the metaphorical cat that ate the canary was called to mind.

“Missed that,” he muttered, sounding almost drunk. Carolina could relate, but she didn’t say so, instead just tugging down his jeans and underwear. Cursing for a moment as she realized she had nearly moved too quickly, she reached over to grab for her purse, where she pulled out one of the condoms she’d taken to carrying—she blamed Kai—before ripping the foil open with her teeth. York propped himself up on shaky elbows, tugging off his shirt while she rolled the condom down onto his dick. Gasping slightly, York barely managed to pull the shirt off before Carolina was moving forward, sinking down on him in an easy movement.

His hands moved to her waist immediately, and she leaned down to kiss him as she began to move, rolling her hips as she tasted herself on him.

He moaned loudly, loud enough that she felt like the entire night shift should be coming to investigate. His hips jerked up to meet her every movement, his face crumpling beneath her as he fell apart. His hands found her clit again, and she had to laugh at his dedication. She loved to wreck him, to make him too breathless to crack jokes, and he loved to pull her barriers down, to get to see _this_ , the way her own mouth was falling open as she lost herself in the sensations of their bodies.

He came first, and Carolina was sure to reach down and kiss him as he did so, catching his groans with her own mouth, even as she continued to ride him through the shakes of his orgasm. The whole time, his fingers didn’t stop moving, ensuring that she wasn’t far behind him, shuddering around him.

She ran a hand down his cheek, still glistening as they both came down, chests heaving. She was wearing her bra, his pants were bunched around his knees, but there was a contentment in her chest, a certainty.

“I love you,” she said softly.

He caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “Love you too, Lina,” he said, softly.


	5. keep the rhythm of a train (Tuckington)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their places are unavailable, Tucker and Wash decide to break in the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy AU day for Smut Week! What better way to close out the smut section of this fic? 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to queseraawesome, who was the one who put the idea of Wash and Tucker fucking on the desk in my head, and saltsanford, who requested that Wash leave the labcoat on.

The list of things that Wash adored about Tucker could fill several of the binders that now filled the previously empty shelves of his office. His laugh. His smile. The way he made coffee. The stubborn tilt to his chin when he’d gotten his teeth into something. The fact that he’d stumbled his way through single fatherhood, night classes, and his normal scheduled rounds, and come out successful.

The way his mouth was hot and insisting on Wash’s ear was also pretty high up there right now, but that was possibly Wash’s erection talking.

Tucker had him pressed against the back of the closed door, hands full of the fabric of Wash’s labcoat as he worked on turning Wash into a panting, pliant mess.

“ _Tucker_ ,” Wash muttered, hands fisted against the door. “Tucker we should— _fuck_ —we need to— _shit_ —get to your place—”

Tucker pulled back suddenly. “My place? Dude, Caboose has my bed this week, remember? He’s got flooding. I thought we were going to your place—”

“Connie’s staying at my place,” Wash said numbly. Connie was crashing on his couch. Connie, with ears like a hawk who would _definitely_ notice Wash bringing home a boyfriend and never let him live it down if he tried to ask her to leave so they could have sex.

The two of them stared at each other in abject horror. Wash’s libido was rebelling at the prospect of _not_ being satisfied that night; their schedules hadn’t aligned this week, and this was the first time they’d managed to be alone in days.

“We could rent a room?” Wash offered hesitantly, since Tucker’s face indicated he was having similar thoughts.

Tucker buried his face in his hands and let out a long, plaintive groan that was very different from the kinds of groans Wash had been hoping to hear that night. “Fucking renting a room at the shitty motel down the street. Great.”

Wash looked at his watch, his stomach sinking. “How long until you have to pick up Junior?”

“ _Shit_ ,” Tucker said. “We fucking don’t have time.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess it’s hand jobs in the car.” His glasses slipped down his nose as he hung his head. “This is like fucking high school all over again.”

Wash looked at the time again, and something clicked inside his mind. “Tucker,” he said. “Everyone else has gone home.”

Tucker stares at him. “What, would you rather I jerk you off in here?”

Wash flushed for a moment, remembering an old, idle fantasy of his from pretty soon after he and Tucker started dating, and before he could stop himself, his eyes flickered to his desk.

Tucker caught that, because of course he did. Tucker was incredibly perceptive when he wanted to be. And the perception was _always_ ready to go when it came to sex. A slow grin creeped across his face.

“Are you _serious_?” Tucker said. “You want me to fuck you on the desk?”

Wash had to look away. “I mean—”

“Fuck yes, we’re doing this,” Tucker kissed Wash suddenly. It was hot and eager and fast and Wash nearly melted again, but it was over far too soon, Tucker pulling away with that bright grin of his that Wash loved. “I’ll go get lube, you move breakable shit off there.”

And then Tucker was gone, leaving Wash alone with the knowledge that he had just asked his boyfriend to fuck him over his desk.

… he was going to have to clean this up very carefully.

Quickly, Wash set about clearing off everything from his desk—the few pictures he’d acquired and the stacks of paperwork that never ceased to dominate the desk were all placed on the bookshelves, and he shoved the computer as far against the wall as it would go.

By the time he’d finished, Tucker was back, the pocket of his scrubs bulging slightly. Wash felt himself flushing brightly as Tucker strode across the office to kiss him.

Wash felt his legs to week as Tucker tugged him flush against him. “Gotta be careful not to make a mess,” Wash gasped out as Tucker moved his mouth to Wash’s neck.

“Stop worrying,” Tucker ordered, nipping Wash lightly with his teeth. Wash let out a strangled noise and jerked his hips. He reached down and cupped Wash through the fabric of his scrubs and Wash let out a loud moan, unable to stop the sound.

“You’re _really_ into this,” Tucker snickered, and Wash flushed brightly. He opened his mouth to say something—hopefully something witty and coherent and clever, but Tucker kissed him again, and talking was suddenly less important.

Finally, Wash forced himself to break the kiss, because kissing was nice and all, but Wash _really_ wanted Tucker to actually get around to fucking him over the desk. When the two of them got started with kissing… it could take a while. Tucker’s mouth was very distracting.

“Tucker,” Wash forced himself to say. “Tucker, _please_ —”

Tucker snickered again. “Alright, alright, keep your pants on. Actually, don’t.” He cradled Wash’s face in his hands. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Wash grinned at Tucker, feeling like a corny sap.

Then Tucker kissed Wash again, biting down on his bottom lip and grabbing Wash’s pants by the waistband. “Now turn around and put your hands on the desk,” Tucker said.

Wash reached up to pull off his coat, only for Tucker to stop him. “Nope,” Tucker said, grinning. “Coat stays on.”

Wash nodded and did so, pushing his own pants down until they bunched around his knees, lifting his coat up so that his lower half was exposed. Tucker reached around and grabbed his exposed cock and began to stroke it, pressing his clothed body against Wash’s. Wash rocked into his hand, biting his lip to not make a noise, before Tucker finally withdrew his hand and rolled a condom down Wash.

“Don’t want to make a mess,” Tucker whispered in Wash’s ear before pressing a kiss against the nape of his neck. Wash let out a noise of acknowledgement as Tucker’s fingers travel down his spine towards his ass. Wash knew that Tucker was tracing the freckles there, connecting them with his touch as he’d done so many other times, before he finally got to Wash’s ass, and something cold and slick pressed against him.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Tucker asked him as he began to slide his first finger in. Wash bucked back against Tucker, but forced himself to focus on his words.

“A—a while,” Wash managed to say as Tucker pushed it in again.

“That’s not an answer,” Tucker said, pressing another kiss to Wash’s shoulder blade. “C’mon, tell me.”

“About—about a month now,” Wash said, yelping as Tucker added a second finger. He was practically shaking with anticipation, but Tucker hadn’t touched his cock since putting the condom on. Wash ground against the desk to try to find some relief, but the fake wood of the desktop provided the barest hint of friction. “ _Tucker_ —”

“You’re so _impatient_ , Doctor Washington,” Tucker said, and Wash moaned at that. “Just hold on.” He curled his fingers just so, finding Wash’s prostate, and Wash practically fell facedown onto the desk. “Just a bit more, baby, just a bit more.”

Wash felt himself relaxing, practically melting over the desk as Tucker kept moving his fingers in and out of him until he was three fingers in. Tucker pressed his mouth against his ear, and Wash shuddered in anticipation, recognizing what was about to happen. “You ready, Wash?”

“Fuck. _Yes_.”

Finally, _finally_ Tucker reached around and cupped Wash’s cock up against his stomach with his lube-slick hand, and spread his ass cheeks with the other. Wash groaned as Tucker pressed up against his hole and then slowly began to push in. Wash forced himself to remain still until Tucker’s hips were pressed up against his.

“God Wash,” Tucker marveled. “You’re so fucking _hot_.”

Wash craned his neck around to see Tucker, eyes dark with sex and mouth twitched up in that gorgeous smile of his. His dreads were pouring over his shoulder, freed from the ponytail Tucker had been wearing earlier, and his glasses were perched on his nose, as if about to fall off. He was still wearing his favorite rooster scrub top, matching Wash, still in his own grey top.

He was the most gorgeous thing Wash had ever seen.

But before Wash could tell Tucker that, Tucker began to move his hips and words became a bit harder.

Wash moaned loudly, rocking his hips back to meet Tucker’s thrusts.

“Can’t believe you’re into this,” Tucker said against Wash’s ear, his hand still cupping Wash’s dick but not making any movement to look after it further. “I’ve fucking wanted to bend you over this desk since you got here.” Wash moaned in response, trying to roll his hips forward. “Fuck, Wash, _fuck_ —didn’t think you’d be into it though. Thought— _shit_ —too many people.”

Wash let out a groan in relief as Tucker finally fisted his hand around his cock and began to jerk him lazily in time to his thrusts, which had begun to slow down. It was enough to let Wash manage to talk.

“Everyone’s home for the day,” Wash reminded Tucker. “And I— _Tucker, yes please, do that again_ —and I’ve—I’ve missed you.”

Wash could feel Tucker’s delighted smile, even if he couldn’t see it. “Getting close Wash, how about you?” Tucker’s rhythm was speeding up, and Wash nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak.

Wash scrambled as he recognized the pressure building in his abdomen, threatening to spill over. He pressed his fingers into his mouth and did his best not to bite down, instead just trying to muffle the scream as he bucked into Tucker’s hand and came.

Tucker laughed behind him, and Wash could listen to that sound forever, that and the other noises Tucker was making. The strangled gasps and groans, the sound of Tucker’s skin slapping against his as he continued to fuck Wash. Wash felt boneless and content, and the noises he were making were dripping with overstimulation.

Tucker came not too long after, still chuckling slightly as he ran his hands down Wash’s back. He made a happy humming noise and Wash felt himself smiling dopily as he turned his head to look at him.

Tucker laughed and fell backwards into Wash’s chair. Wash knew, deep down, he’d have to clean that later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care now. He straightened his labcoat, although that was hardly relevant when he still wasn’t wearing pants, and met Tucker’s gaze and smiled back at him.

“That was _fun_ ,” Tucker said. He pulled off the condom and started to clean himself off. Wash did the same, flushing as he realized he’d have to take the trash home to prevent Doc from finding them the next morning.

Wash grinned and nodded, reaching down to adjust Tucker’s glasses.

“It was,” Wash agreed, dropping a quick kiss onto Tucker’s lips. He paused. “I love you,” he added softly.

Tucker grinned and pulled Wash onto his lap. Wash laughed and didn’t protest, burying his face in the crook of Tucker’s neck. “I love you too,” Tucker said.


	6. Reaching out for a hand that we can't see (Chex)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church and Tex hold hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! Thank you so much to everybody who's followed me along for this little journey; it's been a lot of fun. Hopefully I'll come back to this AU again sometime, but for now it's farewell!

It was nice being back at Blood Gulch, Tex had to admit. Sure, her old office had been taken over by a dork, but the rest of it wasn’t all that bad.

Even if it meant that she was spending every day in proximity with her boyfriend’s neediness.

“Tex,” Church whined from her doorway. He’d been off shift for an hour now, but Tex had a lot of paper to deal with. Tex was _pretty_ sure that Carolina had set it up that way on purpose, as a form of vengeance for… well, everything. Tex didn’t really mind. She kind of did have it coming, all things considered.

Tex flipped over another page. “I need to finish this, Church,” she said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him slump just a little.

She felt pretty bad. He’d had all these plans tonight, she knew. Takeout Thai Food and a shitty movie marathon, like the old days. But if she didn’t finish this now, she wouldn’t finish them, and then Carolina would be all twitchy and snarly for the next few days, and then _Church_ would be sulking because his sister had snapped at him, and _York_ would be mopey because Carolina wasn’t in the mood for flirting, it would all just keep trickling down until the whole hospital was twitchier than the time that Caboose had lost the jar from the morgue with a brain in it and everyone had just _known_ it was going to turn up on someobody’s desk. (It had shown up in Simmon’s locker, and the scream had broken the sound barrier.)

“Just a while longer,” she said. Then, considering, she held out her left hand.

There was a long pause, and Tex continued to sign the paperwork, waiting for the snarky comment.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, Church twined his fingers through hers, and just stood there, holding her hand until her paperwork was done.

Not that Tex had any intention of letting go after she finished.

She’d let him go before.

She had no intention of making that choice a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm at secretlystephaniebrown on Tumblr for additional nonsense.

**Author's Note:**

> For further nonsense, come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://secretlystephaniebrown.tumblr.com/)!


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